On the Verge of New

God of the dawn, God of the springtime,
today I need the good news that "new" isn't an annual opportunity

but a daily gift

a blessing given even before I threw back the covers this morning.

Save me from the belief (vanity, really) that I am somehow stuck

within myself
within habits
within circumstances

that can only be changed with the annual turning of a calendar page.

Even now I hear you laughing, "My daughter, that's hardly the case!

I am newness.
I am life.
I am resurrection.

No moment, no routine, no relationship is beyond my power."

God of the hibernating seed, God of the growing child,
bless me with the joy and flexibility to live into the gift of new,

to celebrate

and to have the courage to be on the verge with you.

Light of Lights

Light of lights, shine on us!

neon lights, headlights
streetlights
red lights, green lights

Light of lights, shine on us!

sun lights, star lights
moonlights
comet lights, twilights

Light of lights, shine on us!

television lights, computer lights
alarm clock lights
fluorescent lights, lamp lights

Light of lights, shine on us!

Christmas lights, firework lights
strobe lights
radio tower lights, search lights

Light of lights, shine on us!

Light of lights, hallelujah!

LOVE

I love you, O LORD my God,
God of my mother and father,
hope of my ancestors,
promise of my children;
for you have not let me go---
you watered the most unlikely flower
in the midst of a vast desert;
you created a path through the wilderness
after the road reached its end;
and, in your wildly fierce and holy love,
you do not leave me to complacency but
you call me through the refiner's fire
toward growth & wholeness
in compassion
in faith
in fellowship.
Stay with me, O Love Incarnate,
drawing me ever closer to sister & brother,
ever closer to you,
for these days are not my own
and this heart was not formed from dust
to love itself.
All the days of my life,
you will be my only praise
and I will sing of your steadfast love
in loud chorus with all creation!

JOY

Advent: the season of preparation
(and anxious detail and obligation),
which leads me to pray: I need release.
I need freedom and unburdening,
like eagle's wings.
O God,
as you skip across the heavens
on your way toward
birth,
lighten my slow steps
and strip the heavy lead from my heart
so that I can
REJOICE,
oh! just sweetly rejoice.
I know, crucified Emmanuel, that
carefree bliss and fullness of joy
are not the same:
surely there was joy in your Word-Made-Flesh lifetime,
but there was nothing carefree about cramming all that
divinity
into a body.
So when my earth-bound joy cannot dance
(because this ego forgets that carefree is not the point),
may HOLY JOY save me
by grace,
by the God of gods
who is not finished
and is not encumbered;
and my song will be lifted up
even if my feet are not:
"Glory to God in the highest.
Glory and joy!"

PEACE

"Peace, peace,"
we pray.
"Peace, as best we can."
A wish and a confession,
all in one prayer:
That you will bring about
a wholeness
beyond our imagining;
That you will forgive us
for not believing
that peace is possible.

O Prince of Peace,
O Restless Spirit,
O Holy Silence,
we pray that you will
lead us
in a pursuit of peace
that leaves no stone unturned.
Not in ourselves.
Not in our world.
And definitely not
where justice is concerned.

May peace--
wholeness, serenity,
community, shalom--
keep us grounded
in you
in this moment
even as we wrestle
with our past(s)
in hope of a more peaceful
future.
Amen.